Clear Water
by Skies-of-Gallifrey
Summary: In between emergencies, the Doctor has time to think. Short and slightly angsty. Set somewhere during series 4.


Not many people knew there was a pool in the TARDIS. The days were usually too busy for anyone to contemplate taking a swim. Now was one of those few times where the Doctor indulged in a planned exercise routine. Running for one's life was all well and good for keeping fit, but it lacked the coordinated precision of an actual workout.

Not to mention that "all that running" as his companions put it, was hardly a strain on his vastly superior cardiovascular system.

He placed a towel on a somewhat extraneous caned long chair by the side of the water.

If his fiery companion were to walk in now she'd probably laugh at him for his attire. The rather plain bathing suit was indeed quite "turn of the century". It covered his entire body, stopping about ten centimetres shy of his elbows and knees. The V-shaped collar was probably the most revealing thing about it. He'd never understand how Tellurians managed to be so comfortable parading around so exposed… Their physicality would never cease to baffle him. He suspected that some of that lust had been directed at him more than once and he'd completely missed it…

He approached the water's edge, testing the temperature by gently dipping his toes in. The limpid water was, as per usual, pleasantly warm. Though he observed that he companion would probably have deemed it "bloody freezing".

They would have probably have gotten along like a house on fire, he thought as he pushed off the edge. When he hit the water he'd revised that statement to: "Like a grain silo on fire" which was a more accurate analogy.

He re-emerged on the other side of the Olympic sized swimming pool. Though by Gallifreyan standards it was merely average.

He trod water for a moment before catching hold of the pool's edge, he went over his schedule. He had seventy laps to do, minimum. Without any further ado, he set out at a calm pace. With a bit of luck he'd actually get through more than half his routing this time.

Half an hour later, he paused; he had already done thirty six laps and was taking a small moment to catch his breath. His respiratory bypass was woefully out of practice, not to mention that this particular incarnation was especially bad at handling it.

Not even a minute later, he was back at it, taking great care to perfect his technique. Each stroke was precisely timed and executed, each breath smoothly integrated into the sequence. He wasn't here to break the speed record, today, finesse was key.

By the end of this thirty minute set, he noticed his shoulder muscles beginning to complain of fatigue. Either he was more out of shape than he thought, or he was getting old, a mere seventy laps was just a warm-up, it shouldn't tire him.

Despite having reached his current quota of laps, he felt reluctant to get out of the water. Instead of exiting, he turned onto his back and pushed off the wall into the middle of the water.

He stared up at the ceiling and the intricate mosaic of a sky filled with all manners of flying beasts. His companions would have marvelled at the outlandish imaginings represented by the small coloured tiles, but to him, each silhouette was hauntingly familiar. The kite-like outline of a silver Air Diamond hung peacefully in the orange-tinged mosaic sky. Further to the right, a blue crystal flutterwing glided in towards the zenith, its majestic form like a sapphire jewel amidst the lilac clouds.

The Doctor drew in a deep breath of humid air and dove beneath the surface.

Before long he'd reached the bottom of the pool, he rested weightlessly on the smooth white coating. He looked around, vision unimpaired by the water, the bottom of the pool was not particularly interesting, but the water muffled the sounds and drowned the light. It even dampened his telepathic acuity, which concealed the gaping silence in his head.

It filled him with a feeling of calm that he wished he felt more often.

Absent-mindedly, he released a small amount of air from his bypass, formed it into a neat little ring and let it rise through the clear water.

He felt another minute pass and he realised he'd been daydreaming in the middle of his workout. If he didn't dawdle, he, maybe, could get at least a quarter of his routine done before some Universal Emergency called him out into the world again.

Life was so much easier when the CIA took care of those kinds of these things… he thought as he pulled himself out of the water.

And whose fault is it that they aren't there anymore?

The Doctor shook his head in a vain attempt to dismiss the venomous thought. But the accusatory little demon would not relent, and the Doctor knew very well he'd never be rid of it, shaking it off would be akin to evicting himself from his own mind.

Not that that stopped him from trying.

The TARDIS whistled soothingly from somewhere in the room and he could feel her telepathic equivalent of a pat on the shoulder. He smiled wanly, he still had her at least, and she had him. He didn't know what he'd be without her.

He tried to picture himself without his beloved ship and dried himself off more vigorously as the thought made the air seem colder against his wet skin.

Not ten minutes later the cloister bell tolled once. The Doctor broke away from his stretches and raced back to put something halfway decent on before facing today's danger.

When Donna entered the console room, she found the Doctor, dressed in a suit identical in every way to the one he had on earlier, grinning like a loon as he flew about the console in his habitual haphazard fashion. An alarm trilled shrilly from the monitor and the console was ablaze with warning lights.

It was at that moment Donna decided she had given up trying to understand him.


End file.
